


mila lays eggs dot doc

by jified



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Other, i want to say that this isnt as bad as it sounds and is just me memeing for 1313 words but Uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 10:08:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14376555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jified/pseuds/jified
Summary: in other unrelated news new priestess sasha finds out she may or may not be into oviposition but also not really dot word





	mila lays eggs dot doc

**Author's Note:**

> dont let ur memes be dreams, write that egg fic
> 
> sorry but also not

"So is this like," says Sasha. "A normal thing, or."

She is staring avidly at the basket of eggs Sister Miranda is carrying out of Lady Mila's room. Covered in slime, they slosh quietly, slightly in the wood. Wet and gooey, through the layers of transulency can she see the beads of black, surrounded by a ball of gel-like... Something.

"Lady Mila lays a new batch of eggs every month," Sister Gerlyn tells her mildly. Sasha swallows. "Has nobody told you yet?"

_No_ , thinks Sasha. _I have only been here for a week and can barely muster up the courage to say a singular sentence to anyone, because they're so experienced and amazing and I am infinitely inferior._

"No," Sasha says instead. "It didn't really come up in conversation."

If it did, though. _Hi, Sasha, new girl, did you know that our God and Savior, Lady Mila herself, lays eggs and they look almost exactly like frog eggs except much larger and much more terrifying? No? Well, you do now!_

"Hmm," says Sister Gerlyn. She puts a hand to her chin, brows furrowing as she thinks deeply. "What an oversight. We must include this in the future briefings..."

_No_ , thinks Sasha, once more. _But also yes, because it would have been nice to know beforehand, maybe, probably, okay not really, nothing would have prepared her-_

"I think that would be a great idea," says Sasha.

Sister Miranda silently makes her way to them, before passing the basket over. Now that Sasha has a closer look, the details are all too clear. The tiny embryos seem to squirm in their casings, or perhaps that is just a trick of the light. The eggs glisten, crystal clear yet murky and cloudy at the same time. They slip and slide as they're jostled, and if Sasha doesn't pay enough attention, it looks like two beome one, one becomes two.

She swallows. Again.

Sister Gerlyn is looking at her, gently. There is nothing but kindness and sincerity in her eyes, and her expression speaks only of the most earnest feelings.

"Would you like to touch them?" she asks.

_Oh, Mila_ , thinks Sasha. _Oh, no,_ thinks Sasha, again. _No, no, no_ , thinks Sasha, again and again and again.

But her mouth isn't moving the way it should and her eyes are too focused on the way the eggs shift in the basket; Sasha's mouth is dry as she opens it and her gaze is fixated-

"Sure," she says. "Okay."

_Fuck_ , thinks Sasha.

Sister Gerlyn smiles soft and bright at her. "Please be gentle," she requests, and then she holds the basket out.

Sasha stares, wary. She already said yes, sure, but is it safe for her to stick her arm into the gelatinous, bulging mass that (presumably) just came out of a dragon goddess.

Sasha swallows. Sasha blinks. The eggs are beckoning her, and, in an almost(?) trance, her arm reaches out, and down, and in.

It was. Smooth. Like sticking her hand into slime, or Sasha'd imagine that it feels like that, because she's never actually done that. Stuck her hand into slime, that is. Maybe if (when?) she ever does, she can describe it as that feeling she had when shoving her arm into a mass of Lady Mila's gooey dragon eggs that may or may not contain tiny little dragon god babies.

Fuck. Don't think about that. Just enjoy the frictionless glide, the gentle softness, and- wait, enjoy? Oh, fuck, shit, no, but the eggs are pressing against her so nicely, the egg sacs practically floating around her arm. They shift and give under Sasha's miniscule movements, the slightest press of her fingers. She watches, entranced, as the layer of gel atop the egg sacs glisten an almost-not-quite rainbow, as the eggs crowd her arm, embryos dark and calling for her.

Sasha-

Sasha needs-

"My, you're really enjoying this," Sister Gerlyn comments, and Sasha has to stop herself from jerking lest she accidentally harms the eggs and calls upon Lady Mila's divine wrath for the rest of her then short existence. Her arm stays, submerged in the beautifu- lovel- amaz- no, what the fuck, that's fucking weird.

Sasha pulls her arm out. Slowly. (Reluctantly. Wait, no-) So she won't damage the eggs. Yes. That's it.

"Do you have a fever?" Sister Gerlyn asks, cocking her head to the side and blinking. Sasha slaps her clean hand over her face, which, huh, feels like it's currently burning. "You seem quite red."

She gracefully places the back of her hand on Sasha's forehead, and Sasha skitters away.

"Um," Sasha says, only slightly stuttering. Somewhat stuttering. A lot stuttering. "N-No, I, I'm just, uh, overwhelmed, by, uh, the- the miracle. Of, uh. Childbirth?"

With every word, her voice gets weaker, more unsure. By the last, it comes out as a quiet, humiliated squeak. And suddenly Sasha feels like maybe she wouldn't mind facing Lady Mila's divine wrath after all.

"Ah, yes," Sister Gerlyn just nods, though, like this is a regular thing. Like this is a normal thing. Like all priestess's undergo the trial of being weirdly attracted to Lady Mila's divine eggs. Oh Mila, do they? Is this a normal thing, or like-

"It was great," Sasha blurts.

No. No. No. No. No.

"Really?" Sister Gerlyn smiles even brighter, if that's possible. "How wonderful. It's nice to see another so interested in this."

What the fuck-

"Ah," Sasha says. "You too." She means for it to be a question, but it comes out decidedly not.

"Yes," Sister Gerlyn nods, and Sasha. Sasha doesn't know how to feel about this. And then Sister Gerlyn says, "Perhaps you would like to be there for the laying next month?"

"Uh," says Sasha. Don't think about- oh, no- Sasha's thinking abou- no, don-

Her gaze wrenches itself back onto the eggs. They shine in the light, sun spots dancing. Like pearls, or diamonds, perhaps, and Sasha wonders what it'd be like to submerge her hand into the swelling mass once more, to hold the fragile egg sac in the palm of her hand, oh so gently, oh so softly.

On second thought-

"Sure," Sasha says. "Yes." And then regrets it. Maybe. Probably. Not as much as she should, definitely, and that's a big problem right there-

"How wonderful," Sister Gerlyn says, and she sounds absolutely ecstatic.

Will Sasha grow up to be like this? To be the slightly weird, slightly off senior priestess whose in charge of helping Lady Mila with her eggs? To initiate unknowing, innocent, young and new priestess into- into this, this, fucking, egg cult?

The eggs are still beckoning her. Sasha almost has to slap a hand over her eyes to stop her stare from wandering back, back to the beautiful clutch of-

No.

"Yes," says Sasha, again, for good measure.

What would Mila look like, laying these eggs, Sasha has to wond-

NO.

"Well, then, do you want to help me with them?" Sister Gerlyn's voice again brings Sasha out of her lurid, ludicrous, absolutely disgusting thoughts, that she will most definitely never have again and will most definitely not think about in the comfort of her own bed later at night. No.

"A-Ah, sure," Sasha swallows, and nods. And when Sister Gerlyn starts walking, Sasha almost stumbles in her hurry to keep up. "J-Just curious, but, uh, what exactly do we do with... Them?"

Don't look at the eggs, don't look at the eggs, do not-

Sasha slaps a hand over her eyes.

"Well," Sister Gerlyn says, mildly, neutrally. She pauses, and Sasha allows herself to look forward again, and it is then she realises that they are headed to the

Kitchen.

"It serves as a nice treat," Sister Gerlyn finishes, and her voice is full of kindness and sincerity, and Sasha thinks, _well, fuck._

_(and that actually, that's also, kinda, uh, kinda h- NO.)_


End file.
